Promise Me Wild Roses The Early Years
by Kisshulover1
Summary: Stories of old about the young little Prince of Finland and his Swedish Vassal, learning of their blooming love for one another. Continuation of Promise Me Wild Roses. Suggest reading of the aforementioned story to understand the plot within.


**Let me Just say this now. If you haven't read **Promise Me Wild Roses **- this little story of drabbles might be a bit confusing. So, I suggest you quickly read over the aforementioned story before diving into this one!**

**Some of you were interested in a few chapters of drabbles about how Tino and Berwald found out that they looove each other. Well, I started it, so here you go, and don't worry, there will be more! It goes steadily from PG to hopefully T/M so ye' be warned! Cool? **I do not own Hetalia but I do own this drabble/story thingy. **Okay - ONWARD TO THE EARLY YEARS!**

…

It occurred to Berwald at the age of fourteen that he was in quiet the predicament.

While other boys his age were already wising up to the prospect of finding themselves a nice girl with pretty braids and glass beads at their necks and cheeks that grew rosy pink when you told them honestly that they were pretty - Berwald was stuck fingers first into grubby earth rooting around for worms to use later in fishing when the weather turned better.

Oh, do not misunderstand.

Berwald loved fishing, he loved mud, and he loved the wriggly feel of worms between his toes.

But.

What he did not love was being teased by the other boys around the cottages and Halls about how all his free time was being eaten up by a Royal brat who seemed to not be able to go a day without a runny nose and a fit of hiccups.

Berwald grumbled under his breath.

Thinking about his troubles would do him no good, not if he wanted to keep his mind on his task. Tino would kill him if he didn't find at least _something_ to bait the hooks with later in the evening.

The Swede sighed once again as his fist came back empty, only a smashed clot of dirt between his fingers and palms. He sighed and flung the mixture behind his back, hearing it hit against a nearby tree with a dull thwack - muck splattering everywhere into a satisfying noise.

"Find anything yet?" Peeped a younger voice off to the side, accompanied by the dulled noise of rocks being picked and thrown away from a patch of dirt. _Thwap. whamp. Plunk._

Berwald turned his head to see Tino, his face all layered with the first showings of sweat along his brow, his cheeks flecked lightly with mud that had long ago dried. The little Finn scratched at his face with grimy fingers, only making the mess a whole lot worse.

"Ah' found a beetle." Berwald called back, his fingers picking up the little shiny brown thing that had, unfortunately, died from pure shock at being squished and man-handled by grubby fourteen year old fingers. Poor thing didn't stand a chance.

"We can't fish with that!" Tino grumbled, shaking his head, knowing very well that fishes favored worms above all else - even before honey-cakes, blackberries and licorice. Believe him, the Finn tried everything in the book. Worms were the sure fire winner.

"Nah, guess we can't. But we can make Mathias eat it." Berwald smiled, flicking the little bug onto the ground to await daily meal time when he would end up in the Danes barely mash.

Berwald looked back to see Tino giggle with delight, a mischievous grin set on his face.

"Oh, brilliant! We'll do it at lunch time - he'll never suspect a thing if we mix it with rabbit meat!" Tino began to bounce up and down in excitement, his hands clasped together, mud squeezing from the gaps at his fingers.

"I'm sure it'll be fun - but I'm skippin' lunch. I gotta' be somewhere." Berwald mumbled as he heaved himself up and off the ground with a creaking of his knees, wiping the dirt from his brow. Sun sure was hot today.

Tino's face immediately fell.

"What do you mean you're skipping lunch? Elizabeta is boiling blackberries and cracking open a jar of pickled herring," Tino struggled with his words, his hands flying up into the air maddeningly. "Katyusha said we could have the first loaf of fresh bread! _The first loaf!_"Tino exclaimed with fervor, struggling on his hands and knees to pull himself out of the sticky mud round his ankles, his trousers now stinking and ruined beyond repair.

"I can't go, 'm sorry. I got somethin' important ta' do." Berwald said simply, making his way to the dry patch of grass that they had set their shoes upon so at least they would be spared from the wrath of dirt and swamp water.

"What's more important than free food?" Tino shouted, hands held high to the air as his eyes widened in disbelief at what he was hearing, what he was seeing. No one turned down free food, not even Berwald.

The Swede ignored the Finn for a few seconds to collect his shoes in one hand and to grab at a fallen tree branch with the other to scrap the caking mud from his pants.

"I 'ave to go find myself a sweetheart before th' other guys start mockin' me cause I dun' 'ave one." Berwald's voice was a tad bit whiny, even for him and it made his eyes wince some. Oh wow, did he sound desperate.

Tino's mouth, if even possible at this point, widened to the sized of the full moon, his eyes suddenly glazed with anger as his cheeks colored.

"What?" He hissed, his lip curling over his teeth as he bared them, like a wolf pup rearing for his first fight.

Berwald swallowed, suddenly feeling the wrath of Finland over his head.

"'S just… I 'ave ta' find one an' all, an' it's hard ta' find time fer myself, fer theses things ya' know?" Berwald mumbled awkwardly, loosing his confidence at each word that fell from his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck with dirt dried fingers, the spot aching itchy and red where he touched it. He cringed.

"But you're not supposed to have time for yourself." Tino seethed out with childish anger, feeling tears already begin to prick at his eyes, his vision becoming blurry. "You're only supposed to have time for me." He finished with a strained tremor in his voice as is hands balled into fists at his sides.

Berwald's brows furrowed in worry, knowing that if he made Tino cry he wouldn't be able to forgive himself, as he promised long ago that he would make the child as happy as he could in this word full of hate.

"T'no, it's not that I don't wanna' spend time with ya'." Berwald tried to reason with the younger boy, Berwald abandoning his shoes to dump them on the ground.

"Bu-Buh-But you wanna' lea-leave me!" Tino suddenly wailed, his chin pressing against his muddied chest as he sobbed, tears like a river streaming down his eyes.

Berwald, like any boy inept at reading situations, began to panic.

He clasped his hands to the Finn's shoulders and hugged him awkwardly to his own chest, movement causing a dull smack of mud against mud as they touched.

Tino still bawled his head off, screeching and fussing against Berwald like someone had just taken his puppy and kicked it or something.

"T'no, calm down! It's just that I can't do anything' on m' own without ya'- let alone find a nice girl ta' be m' sweetheart!" Berwald was beginning to grow impatient as Tino began to thump tiny little fists against Berwald's stomach and shoulders, the Finn starting to scream in fits of rage that Berwald was sure the whole damn country side could hear.

"Maybe I don't want you to get a sweetheart!" He cried back with anger and scorn, his voice loud in Berwalds' ears.

"But I need one! I 'ave ta' raise children an' so do you! Time's runnin' out on meh!" Berwald tried to reason above the sniffles and hiccups and the sobs, but Tino was relentless.

Tino sent him a nasty look that could set the Swede on fire.

"You're fourteen years old, _you dummy! _You got all the time in the world!" He growled back, his face tugged into a frown that made even Berwald shift uneasily, his hands pulling themselves back from Tino's shoulders. The Finn didn't seem to notice.

"I do not 'ave time- and I'm fourteen and a half," which was a lie but Tino didn't need to know that, "So quit screamin' an' scarin' off girls or I won't play hide an' seek with ya' for a week!" Berwald barked back.

Tino's eyes widened with astonishment, the words cutting deep into his tiny franticly beating heart.

"You wouldn't _dare!_"Tino gasped, willing Berwald to take the words back right this instant.

Berwald smiled triumphantly, hands on his hips as he looked down at the Finn in a condescending fashion. He knew Tino hated him when he did that, but right now he didn't care.

"I would." He boasted, speaking easily over the sounds of the stable and the whispers of the birds overhead who had stopped to watch their childish fight.

"Fine." Tino stated with venom as he puffed up his wee little chest and stuck his hands to his sides in a manner that he hoped was most frightening. Then, with each little foot stomping dramatically over the little grassy hill before them, Tino stopped once at the top to glare down at Berwald with all he had.

"I hate you, Berwald Oxenstierna! And I hope the next time you kiss a girl, you get cooties and your face melts off!" He screamed with a shriller voice than any warbler. Then, he turned on his shoeless heel and stormed off, muttering and grumbling all the way to the kitchen doors no doubt to cry over a bowl of boiled blackberries.

Berwald could only stand there shell shocked in the mud, looking after the little Finn who had stormed away from him with so much fury.

To say the least, it didn't take Berwald long to realize he had screwed up Royally.

…

**Well, what's the verdict? Cute enough for you guys? I just think bratty Tino is the funniest thing in the world! There will be more, a continuation, if you review! PLEASE REVIEWWWWWWW! Tell me what you think!**


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